


Nightmares and the humming of the bus

by mikeysgerard



Category: My Chemical Romance, waycest - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Bunk Sex, Cuddles, First Time, Fluff, Hand Jobs, Kissing, Love, M/M, Night Terrors, Nightmares, Promises, Revenge Era, Sex, Sibling Incest, Smut, Top!Gerard, Touring, True Love, bottom!mikey, mentioning of underage kissing, podfic would be awesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-08
Updated: 2016-08-11
Packaged: 2018-08-07 12:20:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7714669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mikeysgerard/pseuds/mikeysgerard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was never a question where Gerard would be sleeping for the rest of the tour. Since he woke up screaming that first night and climbed into my bunk with me, I can’t imagine it any other way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> If you're sensitive to this whole sibling incest thing with Gerard and Mikey, then please don't read. Otherwise, enjoy.
> 
> It'd be super awesome if someone would make a podfic for this story by the way:)!!

Gerard told me to listen to the soft humming of the bus. He told me that if you concentrated hard enough, you could even feel the soft rocking of the wheels on the ground as the bus speeds toward its next destination. The swinging when the bus turned around a corner would make you feel like as if you were lying in a hammock. You really had to concentrade on the humming and the swinging of the bus though, because if you didn't, maybe you'd get motion sick. He said if I concentraded hard enough, I may be able to fall asleep. It’d be like counting sheep you could actually see, yet sleep still hasn’t come. I’m still listening to the humming grow louder and then quiet again while Gerard sleeps next to me.

 

I press the side of my face into the pillow and focus on the slow rise and fall of his chest. It was never a question where Gerard would be sleeping for the rest of the tour. Since he woke up screaming that first night and climbed into my bunk with me, I can’t imagine it any other way. Now, the robe he'd been keeping tightly wrapped around his body like armor is now draped over the end of the bunk like it belongs there -- like he belongs here. The covers he was initially reluctant to slip under are pulled up to his stomach, and his arm rests snugly under the back of his head. However, his face hardly looks content.

 

With his jaw clenched and eyebrows knit tightly, he looks like he's in pain. And all the while, the humming never stops. The soft rocking of the bus shakes him every now and then. Gerard grimaces again, but doesn't make a sound.

 

And then I'm reaching for him and rest my hand in the middle of his chest. Immediately, I feel the rapid and heavy beating of his heart against my palm and I know right away that he's trapped in a place where I can't reach him. I try to shake him awake, but his face screws up even tighter, and his breathing becomes erratic -- a far cry from the shallow, rhythmic breaths he had been taking just minutes ago.

 

I’m reminded of our first night in this bunk when I was trapped in a place in my mind so dark, so dismal that even my screams couldn’t bring me back to reality. I remember the way Gerard touched me that night. Gently, carefully, and just enough to affirm that nothing was going to hurt me. Just enough so that I felt safe. He needs that same safety, now.

 

My body seems to move without thought, closer and closer to Gerard until I’m able to curl up right at his side and rest my head on his shoulder. As I whisper his name into his ear over and over, trying to bring him back from his nightmare, my hand finds his face and the tips of my fingers begin to trace every crease from every wince.

 

Slowly, the anxious tension in Gerard’s body begins to melt away and as his breathing evens out again, he pulls his arm up from between us and wraps it around me, pulling me closer still. There isn’t an inch of our bodies that aren’t touching, now.

 

While I settle into my brother’s embrace, my eyes travel over his face. The relaxed expression that I see is such a relief, that I can’t help but rise up just enough to press a light kiss to his mouth. This causes him to stir. Finally, his eyes open and he blinks twice while he turns on his side to face me.

 

Another protective arm wraps around my body and both hands come to rest on the small of my back. Gerard says nothing, but his eyes are locked on mine so fiercely, I feel a shiver run through my body. We’re close. So close that I wouldn’t have to move my head very far to kiss him again. Gerard isn’t the only one surprised when that’s exactly what I do.

 

This time, rather than pulling away before Gerard has a chance to respond, I let him. I feel his lips press back against mine, trapping my bottom lip between his. It’s been a long time since we’ve shared a kiss with this level of intensity. Maybe not since the first time we kissed back when we were horny teenagers, hanging out and watching movies in the basement. I don’t want to stop. Not even when Gerard’s hands begin to travel up and down my back, dipping lower with each pass until his fingers just graze the top of my butt.

 

Even as I force myself to pull away, my cheeks warm and flushed, Gerard’s gaze hasn’t changed. The half-lidded expression bores into me and I feel a sense of insatiability under his scrutiny. The only thing I can do is bury my face into his chest for the rest of the night, hoping that this feeling will go away.

 

But the next night, as the darkness takes over the bus and the humming and rocking starts once more, our bodies seem to move of their own accord. There isn’t an inch of space between our bodies; nothing that I tell myself seems to persuade me to keep my distance.

 

We lie chest to chest, unmoving at first. But soon Gerard’s hands begin the familiar back and forth motion from the night before. The soft tips of his fingers run across my back tenderly while he keeps his eyes locked on me. It’s as though the lower his fingers travel across my body, the more he searches my face for disapproval that never comes. I can’t find an explanation or the words to tell him, but I suddenly crave to feel his hands on me for more than just comfort.

 

Instead of disapproval, I offer Gerard a surprisingly assertive nod that seems to urge his hands lower until they both rest, palms down, against my butt. He gives a gentle squeeze, evoking a high pitched yelp from me that shocks us both.

 

Gerard loosens his grip, his eyebrows raised questioningly, apologetically, even. I realize quickly that he’s mistaken my response for displeasure. Before I can talk myself out of it, I press my lips to his and hope he understands. But when his hands remain still against me, I know he's still unsure.

 

“It’s okay, Gee” I whisper, keeping my body pressed flush against his. "You can touch me."

 

I watch my brother’s worried expression change. His eyes grow dark and I try to hold his gaze, but fail when I feel a rush of heat wash over me. I want him to know that I meant what I said. He can touch me; I want him to touch me. I bring a tentative hand up to his cheek and pull him into another kiss and when I finally feel his hand tighten and squeeze, any noise I make is silenced by his mouth.

 

The combination of Gerard’s hands gently kneading my butt and his lips planting delicate kisses against my mouth is thrilling in a way that it never has been before. And I know he feels it too, because when I open my mouth and feel his tongue slide across mine, it’s him that shivers.

 

As many times as I’ve kissed Gerard since when we were kids, just messing around, at first, we’ve never kissed like this before. Every time his tongue dips into my mouth and I taste the mint flavor of his toothpaste and the nicotine of his cigarettes, the less willing I am to stop this. It’s warm in a way it never has been before, too. That warmth burns through my body, heating me up in ways I don’t dare think about right now.

 

Ignoring every question I could be asking myself, I allow my body to take over. Without breaking away from Gerard’s lips, I shift just enough so my hand can easily pull my pjyama pants down a bit. It temporarily forces Gerard’s hands off of me, but he’s quick to bring them right back to where they were as soon as I’ve tucked the cotton down enough. When his hands settle, I feel them against the thin fabric of my boxershorts. And the sound that I make when I feel his fingers dig into my exposed skin can only be described as a moan.

 

Gerard mutters a soft “Shh” against my lips, reminding me of how thin these walls of our bunks are. The last thing I want is for anyone to hear us. It’s bad enough that everyone on this bus is well aware of the nightmares. I don’t want to give them anything else to talk about. Not that Frank or Ray would judge us, though. I guess they've always kinda known about us.

 

I try to hold back. I try to silence myself with Gerard’s lips, hoping that any noise that escapes will be swallowed by his mouth, but this only seems to increase the frequency of my cries due to the way the warmth of Gerard’s tongue dipping into my mouth feels. It slides against my own in a pattern that quickly becomes familiar, and I find myself matching his advances with equal fervor. The high pitched sigh that slips out when he takes my bottom lip between his and begins to suck makes him pull away and stare at me with wide eyes.

 

Gerard’s next move is unexpected, but not unwelcome. With his grip on my butt even tighter than before, he pulls me toward him. My hips press into his and Gerard exhales loudly, a groan of his own escaping at the contact. I smile against his lips and attempt to tell him to stay quiet the same way he had shushed me just a minute ago, but the sound dies in my throat when Gerard pulls me into him again and I feel his erection against my hip.

 

My first thought is to freeze and stop this before it goes any further. Yet, I don’t. I can’t. Rather than stopping this, I begin to push further, emulating the way Gerard pulled me into him. With each roll of my hips, I ensure that his erection presses against as much of me as possible. His hands never leave my butt. It’s as though he’s afraid that if he lets me go, I’ll disappear. But I have no plans to leave this bunk. Not when it feels like every nerve in my body is throbbing and alive.

 

Every touch sends a jolt of electricity up and down my entire body, and every soft groan that slips from Gerard’s lips when his arousal presses into my hip only seems to make the throbbing worse -- especially between my own legs.

 

For the first time since we slipped into my bunk together tonight, Gerard removes his hands from me completely, bringing them down between our bodies. The ache I feel without his hands on me is even worse than I remember, and I’m forced to pull away to look at him quizzically.

 

“Have you ever thought about..” Gerard’s voice catches. He clears his throat before continuing. “About where else you’d like me to touch you?”

 

He asks the question in a whisper that’s so low I can barely hear him. His eyes, half-lidded and dark, pore over my face while he waits for an answer.

 

“No,” I finally manage to say, offering nothing more.

 

Gerard’s lips crash into mine. He wastes no time pushing his tongue past my lips and I drink him in greedily in return. His hands return to my butt and his erection presses against me again. This time, Gerard angles his hips lower, slipping between my legs in such a way that his hardness rubs right against my own erection.

 

I didn’t think the throbbing coursing through my body could get any worse. I’m quickly proven wrong when Gerard’s length seems to skim right over the part of me that’s pulsing the most. The gasp that I emit seems to be exactly what my brother was hoping for. His lips quirk up into a grin against mine.

 

“Mmmhmm,” he hums, licking his lips as he pulls away. “Where did you feel that?” he asks. “Show me, Mikey.”

 

Even though his voice is faint, there’s a gruffness behind it that lights a fire in my stomach. I bring my hand down, watching Gerard’s eyes follow before I slip it between my legs and rub against the thin fabric of my boxers in the same spot where Gerard was just pressed against me.

 

“How does that feel?” Gerard asks.

 

At first, I want him to stop talking. What if someone hears what he’s asking me? His voice is low, though. So low that even I can barely hear him, and I decide talking is probably better in this case.

 

“Good,” I croak. My voice sounds shaky and anxious.

 

Gerard raises an eyebrow at me, uncertainty written all over his face. I clear my throat and glide my fingers across the fabric of my boxers again. The material is warm and damp against my fingers, and I wonder if my brother would be less uncertain if he felt this, too.

 

My hand finds his nestled between our bodies, and I guide him between my legs. He inhales sharply and shifts his hips when his fingers brush against my cloth-covered erection. Taking a chance, I look down and see his own erection straining against his cotton sweatpants. Should I touch it? He’s touching me, but it’s with my guidance. What if he doesn’t want me to touch him?

 

And then before I can contemplate any further, his hips are moving again. The same way they moved when he pressed himself into me, but this time there’s nothing for him to grind against. His fingers begin to move without my direction, his fingers gingerly rocking up and down my length. It feels so good that I can’t stop myself from wrapping my hand around his erection in return.

 

I don’t move -- I wait. Wait for Gerard to react. To tell me what he wants, though all he does is close his eyes and stills the movements of both his hips and his fingers. My blood runs cold at the thought of doing something wrong. Just as I’m about to pull my hand away, however, he starts moving again.

 

He juts his hips forward, making sure my entire hand is full of him. His rhythm isn’t what it was before. It’s erratic, and I can tell he’s struggling with this. He also seems to have forgotten that he shushed me earlier, because his whimpers are growing louder. If anyone were to overhear, there’d be no mistaking what’s happening in here. Thankfully, I can hear the other dudes snoring in their own bunks.

 

Quickly, I cover Gerard’s mouth with my own, pushing my tongue past his lips and try my best to stifle the moans. I’m not prepared when his hips and fingers still unexpectedly and his body shudders against my hand. A few more moans slip between our lips, but most are absorbed by our frantic kisses.

 

I wait several minutes for him to begin again, but instead, my brother pulls away from me and refuses to meet my gaze. All at once, I realize what’s just happened.

 

“I’m going to the bathroom,” Gerard grumbles, slipping out of my bunk without giving me a chance to answer, though I briefly contemplate following him. But then I decide it’ll probably only embarrass him further, so I let him go. And when he returns, a fresh pair of sweatpants hugging his hips, I pretend that I’m asleep.

 

Even though I noticed Frank and Ray staring at me and Gerard a little longer than usual the next day, I don’t bring the incident up and gerard doesn’t either. We go through the motions as always. New town, new concert, new challenges. Once we were ready to leave and Brian shuffled us back onto the bus that immediately sped off toward the next destination, we had a nice dinner with out friends and retreated to our bunks for the night.

 

Any embarrassment Gerard may have felt last night seemed to have vanished the moment the bus door slid closed. He shrugged out of his jeans and t-shirt easily and sat down on the edge of the bunk, watching me. His eyes never left mine once. I was secretly glad that the others decided to play some video games in the couch area and didn't go to sleep yet. I returned his burning stare and slowly walked toward him, each second that ticked by filling me with a boldness I’ve only felt while in this room..or, well, bus. And as I closed in on Gerard, rather than sitting down next to him, I crawled on top of him, closing the curtain of my bunk behind me.

 

There were no hesitations, no questioning stares. Our lips crashed together immediately with an urgency that felt as desperate as it could get. Then we were wrapped up in each other once more. Chasing the burdens of the day away with each ardent kiss. I remember Gerard’s arms wrapping around me tightly and the tiny room of my bunk spinning around while he scooted us both to the head of the bunk, but I can’t remember anything else until Gerard’s hands settled on my thighs confidently.

 

My brother’s touches have always been a welcoming sensation for me. Full of warmth and steadiness, every graze and hug fill me with a sense of calm that I haven’t felt in years. But as my body hovers over his and those same steady hands travel up my thighs with purpose, I feel the opposite of calm. All his caresses seem to do is make me feel frenzied. Like his hands can’t possibly touch me as much as I crave.

 

Now, with the sounds of our kisses growing louder in the silent bunk, Gerard’s hands continue to inch their way up until they completely disappear under the waistband of my pjyama bottoms. One hand grasps my hip while the other moves between my legs, rubbing the inside of my thigh.

 

The wait to feel his fingers pressed against my length is so agonizing that I want to grab his hand and speed up the process. But I don’t, and I’m glad, because when I feel his fingers slide across the cotton of my boxers, the relief is so sweet. Sweet, but short lived. The ache between my legs grows more and more urgent as Gerard teases and massages me through the fabric. I need more.

 

My hips seem to make the decision for me, and soon, I’m pressing myself down against Gerard’s hand, groaning with satisfaction when his palm presses right against the spot that has been aching the most. That always aches the most when I'm with him.

 

My pjyama bottoms pool around my thighs, continually forcing me to push them down again. Each time they slide back up, it pulls me from the rhythm I’ve found.

 

With my frustration mounting, I finally grab hold of the offending clothing with tight fists and swiftly pull them down my legs, discarding them on the bunk mattress.. Immediately, I realize just how exposed I am, now. Since I only ever sleep in pjyama bottoms, anyway. I want to get off of Gerard’s lap, gather my pjyama, and forget about this whole thing until I feel my brother’s hand on my hip, giving me a gentle squeeze, as though he can sense my discomfort.

 

“You didn’t have to do that,” Gerard says, his hand stroking my hip and side tenderly.

 

“I wanted to.”

  
  


“Are you sure?”

 

I nod. “I think so..”

 

“No.” Gerard shakes his head firmly, reaching out and snagging my bottoms from where I dropped it on the mattress. He presses the balled up clothing against my crotch, covering me a little. “Not unless you’re sure.”

  
  


But as a I look at him and see the concern in those green-brown eyes, tamping out the heat and fire that were present before, I realize that I _am_ sure. I’ve never been more sure of anything before. The thought almost scares me. You shouldn't think about those things with your own brother. But then again, both him and me have never been normal. It's always been like this. It didn't matter that we were the only one that understood our closeness. We understood, and that was all that mattered. We've never been this close before, though..

  
  


Rather than taking hold of the pjyama bottoms so Gerard can drop his hand, I cover theem with my own, securing his hand against my crotch before pulling at the fabric that’s trapped between us. Slowly, it starts to slip from Gerard’s grasp, and when I’ve discarded the clothing for the second time, I guide Gerard’s hand to my bare chest.

  
  


“I’m sure,” I whisper, exhaling loudly when I feel Gerard’s hand squeeze one of my nipples.

 

With his hand gone from between my legs, his erection is noticeable. I don’t look down to see, but I imagine it straining against his cotton pants just as it did last night. The thrill I feel when I remember the way he thrust into my hand and the audible gasps he made as he finished makes the pulsing in my cock even more insistent than before.

  
  


Positioning myself over Gerard’s arousal, I drive my hips forward, holding on to his shoulders for leverage. We both whimper in unison, trying as hard as we can to stay as quiet as possible, but I don’t know how long that will last. If it feels this good now, what will it feel like when-- Gerard’s head dropping to my chest brings me back to attention. I feel his lips, warm and wet, brush against my nipples. I pause, watching Gerard move across my chest and press his lips to the nipple he is still squeezing, and suddenly he’s kissing a place I never imagined wanting to be kissed by my brother before. And I’m enjoying it.

  
  


I almost cry out loudly when Gerard’s tongue flicks against my nipple. The act is so surprising, but the sensation is so warm. I’m taken to another level completely when Gerard’s mouth closes around the hardened nub. My hands fly to the back of his head, raking and clenching his greasy black hair between my fingers while my lower half moves in short thrusts, pressing Gerard’s erection against mine as hard as I can, but something still isn’t right. There are is still too much in the way.

  
  


Dropping my hands back down to Gerard’s shoulders, I give him a gentle push, separating the connection between his mouth and my nipple. He gives me a confused stare, and I give him a half smile in return before pushing him down until his back is flat against the dirty mattress.

I don’t know how to explain what I want to do, so I let my body speak for me. I slide off of my brother, burrowing close against his side. He reacts as he would if this were any other night on this bus by wrapping a protective arm around my shoulders. Once we’re settled, I look down at his pants for the first time tonight. The straining is evident even in the low lighting.

 

 

Gerard tenses when I reach my hand out to touch him. I have to wonder if he’s worried about a repeat of last night, so I pull away. I’m not ready for this to be over just yet. I want to _see_ him, and the soft tug I give to the waistband of Gerard’s pants tells him this loud and clear. His eyes travel from my hand to my face, and I see the burning stare has returned. The heat his stare brings to my body drives any nerves that may have been lurking far away, and my hand grips the soft cotton of Gerard’s pants and I begin to pull eagerly.

 

I can just make out the angle of his hips and the way they plunge down on a slant that seems to point right at the part of him I’m most anxious to see. He lifts his lower half from the mattress just enough to allow me to slip the pants down past his butt, and as he settles back down I’m forced to tug a little harder when the pants get caught as I try to pull them past his arousal.

 

Gerard hisses, and at first I think I’m hurting him until I hear a moan escape. With one final yank, his erection springs free and for the first time, I look at all of him. Not even in the when we were teenagers would I look down to catch a glimpse of him. But now, I can make out every inch of him in this dim compartment. How it rests against his stomach and how he’s slightly curved toward the end and I can't help but notice the dark curls that lead from his belly down to his crotch. He’s so hard. There is nothing in the way of feeling just how hard he is now. I hesitate for a split second before wrapping my hand around him. He’s heavier against my palm than I expected, but also softer than he looks.

 

My hand begins to move despite not knowing what to do. It's different then when I touch myself. The pads of my fingers brush against the tip of Gerard’s erection, and I hear him suck in a deep breath on contact. So I try again. The way he writhes with such a simple touch is fascinating, and I’m grateful when his hand covers mine and guides me in drawing my fist up and down his length.

 

After we find a good pace, Gerard lets go of my hand and mutters not to stop. He wiggles around, pulling his dirty black t-shirt up to his ribs as I continue to stroke him. His breathing grows more and more labored with every second that passes, every inhale and exhale suddenly so audible that they seem to reverberate from the walls and back into my ears. I should be concerned about who might hear him, too, but I’m not. The sounds are too pleasant, too tempting for me to care right now.

 

I'm leaking between my legs, dampening my boxers for the second night in a row. Between Gerard’s moans and the way he feels sliding through my hand, my thoughts are full of wondering what it would feel like to have my brother’s hands on me without the barrier of clothing. The thought alone makes me clench my thighs together in attempts to ward off the nagging throb that still persists.

 

Gerard screws his eyes shut, and let’s out a shaky, strained groan. I notice his hand clutch the dirty bedsheet suddenly and know he must be close. He doesn’t speak to let me know that he’s there, but I feel him tense in my hand just seconds before his orgasm hits and his body is overcome with intense tremors.

 

Something about watching him fall apart like this is arousing. To see his body, spent and sated, the evidence of his orgasm present on his stomach and dripping down my knuckles, almost makes me dizzy with need to feel the same, but not tonight. I don’t think I could possibly handle anything else right now, no matter how unrelenting the throbbing has become.

 

Instead, Gerard and I exit my bunk and slip into the tiny bus bathroom to clean up. I watch him wipe off his stomach with a wash cloth and tuck himself back into his sweatpants. When we get back to the bunk, I know I could let him touch me and bring me to the same state of contented bliss he’s in right now, but I don’t, and he doesn’t press me to let him. We settle in, my back pressed flush against his chest. When his hand slips into my boxers and his fingers settle low on my hip, I let him keep them there. It’s the first night since the tour started that I fall right to sleep.

 

Over the next two nights, I find that I can’t keep my hands off of Gerard. I touch him any chance that I can get, sometimes more than once a night. Tonight, with my hand wrapped firmly around Gerard’s erection, I realize just how much I enjoy doing this and wonder why we didn't do it earlier. There’s something about the way he feels in my hand, soft and rigid all at once, the way his body relaxes under my touch until the last possible moment until every inch of him tenses under my grasp and he comes undone that keeps me entranced and makes me want to touch him every chance I get.

 

The effect it has on me is one that I haven’t let myself think about much. Despite how pleasurable it is to see Gerard like this, to watch him climax and to know it was _me_ that brought him to the edge and the thought of how much I enjoy it and how much I want him to do the same for me both thrills and terrifies me. At first, it was easy to tell myself that I was doing this for my brother. I had less to think about when I told myself that. But tonight, as I watch him come for the third night in a row, I know that isn’t why I’m doing this. It’s never been why I did it. And I know I can’t possibly go another night without asking him to do the same for me, no matter what it forces me to think about later.

 

I know he wants to, even if he’s never pushed the idea. And with the way we’ve been sleeping lately, with one of his hands pushed just beyond the waistband of my boxershorts, he could easily let his hand slip lower, but he hasn’t and I know he won’t until I tell him I want him to. I just can’t seem to find the words until I see Gerard move to get out of my bunk.

 

“No,” I whisper. My voice isn’t as firm as I’d hoped, but it gets Gerard to stop.

 

“I have to go clean myself up, Mikes” Gerard reminds me. “I’ll be right back.”

 

“No,” I repeat, pushing my glasses up my nose, putting my hand to his chest and pushing him back down against the mattress.

 

I wish I could say more to him. I wish I could tell him that I want him to touch me until I feel myself come undone, but I can’t. Instead, I decide to show him. Sitting up, I grab my pjyama bottoms, which has barely been on my body all night, and use them to clean Gerard up before tucking him back into his own pants myself. It’s not the soap and warm water he’s used to rubbing himself down with each night, but it’s enough. I’ll need fresh bottoms later, but that’s the last thing on my mind right now.

  
  


The next thing I have to do is something I’ve never done before. I take a deep breath and loop my fingers through the waistband of my boxershorts and start to pull, looking at Gerard’s face as I slip them down my skinny legs. He sits up, his eyes traveling up between my legs as realization washes over him, and he murmurs my name when I throw my legs over him and climb into his lap.

 

Gerard’s hand finds my chest immediately, squeezing my nipples firmly. I long to feel his mouth on my chest. Wrapping one arm behind Gerard’s head, I pull him to my chest and arch my back, willing him to take my nipples into his mouth.

 

When I feel his mouth close around the nub, I press my own fingers down my length in attempts to alleviate the persistent aching that I’ve been feeling for days. I know immediately that won’t be enough anymore. I need to feel Gerard’s hand between my legs. Now.

 

My hands tangle in Gerard’s unwashed hair, and I pull him away from my chest, forcing him to look at me.

 

“Touch me, Gee” I murmur. It’s all I can manage to tell him, but it’s enough.

 

He kisses me deeply, his tongue stroking mine languidly while his hand disappears between my thighs. His fingers slip down my length, lets them travel and he groans into my mouth as he pushes a finger carefully inside me. I shift my body and clench the muscle around his finger, drawing it in further. The fit is snug, and while it doesn’t hurt, it does little to relieve the throbbing that still continues. This feels different than when Gerard touched me through my boxers, like he’s found a different spot to tease that isn’t quite as easy to get to. It’s not until he presses his other entire hand against my cock and I feel his palm against me and his finger inside me, that he hits the spot I needed him to.

 

“There,” I gasp into his mouth.

 

Gerard removes his hand and repositions it, slipping now two fingers through the muscle and stroking me with his other hand. His fingers inside me seem to stop wich lets me confused for a moment until I feel him press them gently to the nerve he hit earlier.

  
  


“Here?” he asks, smiling as I lurch forward in response to his touch. I don’t have to answer him to tell him he’s found the right spot.

  
  


Using my precome, he slips his fingers up and down my erection, causing me to squirm. His swipes are gentle, but firm enough that I can feel the pressure build. I didn’t think it could possibly get worse, but Gerard’s fingers rubbing up and down and his mouth wandering all over my body, I can see how wrong I was yet again.

  
  


I cry out louder than I should when his teeth find my nipple and I'm yet again thankful that Frank and Ray are out in a bar tonight. The pleasurable sensation radiates through my body, filling me with a need so great that I can’t help but swirl my hips to aid Gerard’s fingers. The added pressure is exactly what I needed and soon the pressure turns into a tingle that grows and spreads through my cock and down my legs.

  
  


“Tell me when you’re going to come, Mikes.” Gerard says, kissing me and speeding up the pace in which his fingers slide over me and rubbing that spot inside of me. The faster pace is all that I need. I press my forehead to his and whimper.

 

“Fuck, now, Gee.” I tell him.

  
  


His mouth closes around mine immediately, swallowing my gasps and moans as the tingling turns into a full fledged burn that sears through every part of me. My body doesn’t feel like its my own anymore, and I can hardly breathe under the intensity in which it continues to seize and release.

  
  


Finally, when I was just about to think the buzz that had been tearing through me would never end, it does. I’m left panting and limp, with my brother’s solid body being the only thing keeping me upright. He smells unwashed and like old sweat but also like softener and home and when he falls back onto the dirty mattress, I go with him, making no effort to move to my side of the bunk. I lay on top of him, drifting in and out of a light sleep, and this is where I plan to stay until sunrise and the bus starts to move again.

 


	2. Chapter 2

I never thought I could become so familiar with a body that wasn't my own. There are times when I think I may now be more familiar with Gerard’s body than I have ever been with my own. I know what the reflection in the mirror shows when I stand naked in front of it, of course. Tall and thin , skin white and pale, dark curls between my legs. However, it’s the more intimate facets that still evade me.

 

I’ve learned things about Gerard’s body over the last weeks that we've been on tour now that I’ve never known about myself. I learned one night that only his left hip is ticklish as I let my fingers roam over his pale skin while I stroked his erection. The moan that turned into a girlishly laugh is a sound that I seem to hear now every time I close my eyes. Sometimes, while we lie in the dark, I like to skim my fingers over the area to hear that laugh again. I've also learned that it doesn’t matter how many times I've made him come the night before, he will always be hard again first thing in the morning. There have even been mornings when my hands have found their way to those morning erections and worked him to completion moments before either Frank or Ray could poke a finger through the curtain to rouse us. I even know that while my hand is wrapped around his cock, rubbing across the rigid length, nothing makes him fall apart faster than the moment I tighten my grip at the base of his erection.

 

We’ve hardly slept the entire tour so far. I can’t blame the nightmares, they don’t hit nearly as often as they do back home when I’m all alone in my bed. My brother’s protective embrace seems to keep me calm enough to keep the worst of the terrors away in the few moments of rest that do come. But more often than not, when we try to sleep, it’s only a matter of time before Gerard’s hands feel as though they’re searing my skin. The urge to feel those hands, those fingers, touch me in other places takes over, and it’s only a matter of time before my own hands take on a life all their own and I want nothing more than to feel Gerard stiff in my hands. To see his stomach rolling like waves from his ragged and hurried breaths. And the need to explore is only growing stronger by the night.

 

I think Ray knows. Between gas station stops and during meals, Gerard and I are constantly subjected to sideways glances from him. Looks that say,  _“_ _I know what you’re up to, Ways.”_ or worse,  _“_ _I’ve heard you.”_  We stay as silent as we can, but these 'walls' are thin and we aren't always quiet. A fact that I only seem to think or care about while being subjected to Ray's scrutinizing looks. Frank, however, seems not to notice. Not that he would mind, though. He'd probably the first one to ask if he could join us. And deep down, I know that Ray doesn't mind as well. I think he's just a bit afraid that things with the band could get down if someone finds out but all in all, both Ray and Frank are very understanding and supportive.

 

I think that as soon as the tour is done, things will get a bit easier for me and Gerard. Not that I don't love all about being on tour with Gerard and my best friends, but then I can have my brother all to myself without being afraid of touching him.

 

Frank, as I said, seems clueless. But I think he might be faking it. It would be weird if he doesn't know. He's just too busy being excited about the message that Gerard and Mikey Way are sleeping in the same bunk to not notice. It’s during his 'excited moments' that I periodically glance to Ray and see what looks like the poorest attempts at hiding smiles I’ve ever seen. A smile that erupts into a full blown laugh the morning I almost follow Gerard right into the bathroom, trying to ensure that Ray can’t catch him alone.

 

Gerard and I never talk about that happens between us at night. With so many people around us on high alert, and our days filled with sound proofs, shows, meeting fans, and traveling, there’s no safe moment to utter a word about it.

 

But the first time Gerard’s tongue touches me in my most sensitive spots, and I let his name fall from my lips in a way I never have before, it says more than anything either of us could assert, even if we tried.

 

Our patterns have evolved over the last few days. Where we once took turns on each other, reveling in the sights and sounds the other makes and trying to discover ways to induce even more pleasure on each other, we started finding ways to touch each other at the same time. We no longer revel in the sounds we make on our own, but the sounds we make together, me and my brother.

 

I learned very quickly that staying completely silent was never going to be a possibility. For the most part, we keep our voices low enough so we know they’re just between us. But every so often, one of us will have to remind the other to be quieter. Despite everything that I know about myself, I find these reminders more amusing than dangerous. It’s just enough to bring a smile to my lips, keeping the intensity that I so often feel while with Gerard from swallowing me whole.

 

Tonight, while Gerard and I lay on our sides, my butt pressed into his groin, we found a slow and comfortable rhythm. His arm was draped over my waist, fingers trailing sleepily across my skin. He traced the bone of my hip, dipping lower and lower until he wrapped them around my cock and lavished my sensitive head there with the gentlest attention and causing a need for release so agonizing and desperate, I didn’t know how I would spend another minute waiting for the moment when my body lost all control.

 

With our bodies positioned back to front, I was able to stimulate Gerard without even having to use my hands; simply driving my butt back against his erection was enough. Each time I crush my back side against him, he elicits rounds of whispered moans into my ear that I so wanted to hear.

 

But it wasn’t enough. I wanted my hands on Gerard. I wanted his fingers to explore deeper. Neither could happen comfortably as long as we were lying the way we were. We tried, but soon, our arms became tangled and tired. Even when Gerard moved his arm back and pushed a finger into me from behind, it didn’t feel right. And somehow, without having to speak a word, Gerard knew.

 

I was prepared to simply turn to face him. That way I could easily reach between us a take him in my hand. I wasn’t prepared for Gerard to move away from me entirely. He settled himself in a sitting position between my legs and pulled me up to sit with him. He pushed my hair from my face and cupped my cheek, running his thumb across the area. I reached for him first. After scooting in closer, I was able to easily wrap my hand around his erection. I’ve never looked at his face much while doing this, but it was so present I couldn’t take my eyes off of it. And he didn’t do a thing to take his eyes off of me. He looked at me like I was beautiful and precious and that thought made me blush deeply. Not even when his fingers found their way to my length, and he resumed his relaxed teasing.

 

There was just something about the way he looked at me that made me feel restless. A heavy-lidded and fiery gaze that would not let up no matter how I touched him. And then he stopped everything and whispered for me to lie back down. I wasn’t sure what was happening. Why would he stop? I wondered if he was upset about something, but it made no sense. It wasn’t until he moved onto his stomach, his head situated between my legs, asking me gently if it was okay for him to be there that I began to understand why he was asking me that question.

 

My whole body tensed up when the realization hit me. I wasn’t uncomfortable with the idea of his mouth on me. Quite the opposite, in fact. I was curious to find out what it felt like, but it didn’t stop the nervous energy that surged through my body at the thought of it. I nodded to let him know it was okay, and he held my gaze for a long time before his head disappeared between my legs and I felt his warm breath spread across my inner thigh.

 

Next were his lips, burning hot against my skin. He lingered for so long, trailing kisses up and down both thighs, sucking lightly at the spots his lips had just been. I began to wonder if that was all he was planning on doing all night.

 

It was when I was in mid-thought that I felt that first swipe of his tongue cover my length, causing every thought I’d had all evening to disappear. His tongue was so much softer, so much warmer than his fingers. The light tickling that it left as it licked my head had me whimpering a sound that eventually turned into Gerard’s name being whispered over and over.

 

And now, as nervous as I was for him to begin, I don’t want him to stop.

 

When he gets finally shifts his attention to the sensitive head and gently sucks on it, I lose all sense. I thought I was desperate for release before. Now I’m practically begging for it. However, the only word I can see to form is Gerard’s name. I recite it over and over like a song and twirl my fingers through his greasy hair softly to keep him from moving away from me.

  
  


I can tell my brother is surprised at my response by something that flickers in his eyes when he looks up at me from between my legs. I look back at him, hoping the look I give him back is enough to tell him that he’s doing everything right tonight, and it won’t be long before I finally feel the release I’ve been hoping for all night.

  
  


The look we exchanged seems to have given Gerard a wave of confidence. His other hand that isn't wrapped around my base ghosts up my flat stomach toward chest. His fingers toy with my nipples, squeezing them in time with each suck he makes against my head.

  
  


It’s the combination of Gerard sucking me off, flicking his tongue over my head and jerking me off at the same time that finally brings me to the point of no return. Before I can stop myself, my thighs clench around his head and I come into his mouth with Gerard still bobbing his head up and down swiftly.

  
  


My apology afterward is met with a tickled smile before Gerard’s lips find mine. There’s still a hint of what I imagine is me on his tongue and lips. I taste bitter and salty but I find that it sends a delightful shudder up my back, filling me with an urgent need to bring him to the brink the same way he did for me.

  
  


As with everything else, I have no explanation for my desires. I gave up trying to explain or understand the things I’ve done on this tour, and I’m not about to start trying again now.

  
  


The calm state my body has been left in after my orgasm spurs me forward. With my hands planted firmly on Gerard’s chest and our kisses growing more and more frantic, I push him. But my hands only meet the solid plane with resistance.

  
  


“What are you doing?” Gerard asks, breaking the kiss.

  
  


I don’t answer. I drop my gaze when I feel a wave of embarrassment wash over me at the thought of Gerard rejecting my advances. And for a brief second, I'm angry. When I look back up to his eyes, though, I see confusion there, not denial. Then I see something register and he shakes his head.

  
  


“You don’t have to do it, Mikes,” Gerard starts, pushing my glasses up my nose a bit. “I’m not expecting anything in return. I did that because I wanted to make you feel good.”

  
  


I narrow my eyes at my brother. How could he still think that I would do something like this for any reason other than pure desire? I've always wanted him and I know he always wanted me too, we were just too afraid to admit it until a few nights ago when I kissed him awake from his nightmares.

  
  


I think about those moments during our early teenage years when a kiss between Gerard and I began to intensify. I felt those very same desires burning in my chest that I’ve felt here in this bunk. What could have happened back then, when we were so young still, if Gerard hadn’t stopped that very first kiss between us? I know he only wanted to protect me. He's my big brother after all. But I feel like he never really understood just how much I always wanted him until now.

  
  


“I know I don’t have to, Gee” I say, pushing away the thoughts. I focus my eyes on Gerard sharply. “But what if I want to?”

  
  


Gerard’s eyes scour my face, dark eyebrows knit together in confusion and what I fear is worry. “You want to?”

  
  


I nod. “I want to.” I say, pushing a long strand out of his eyes and behind his ear. Then I lean forward and kiss his hear lightly, whispering, "You're so beautiful..so so beautiful, Gee, so pretty," over and over. Because it's true. My brother _is_ beautiful. I don't think he understands just how much I those words.

  
  


Then I push on Gerard’s chest again, and after a second of resistance, he finally relents. His body falls back against the hard mattress of the bunk as I scoot between his legs. For the first time, I start to feel nervous. I don't know what I'm doing. What if I do something wrong? What if he doesn't Iike it? I know what I like being blown but what if he doesn't? I drive every thought I have about failing at this and focus on Gerard’s erection. I’ve almost committed every inch and curve of it to memory. But knowing the perfect spot to curl my fingers around him won’t help me now. The secret knowledge of knowing that the soft pad of my thumb rubbing the tip of his arousal means nothing when it’s my mouth that'll be doing the work.

  
  


Suddenly I’m struck with an idea that enables me to ignore the bubbling nervousness and proceed. I catch Gerard’s eyes one more time. The half-lidded stare looking back at me, waiting, manages to give me that final boost of confidence. I lean my body down and bring my mouth close to his erection.

  
  


Slowly, I move even closer until I can reach him with my tongue. Before I can think too much about it, I press my tongue against the tip of Gerard’s aching need. He's already leaking and I begin to move it in the same circular pattern I would use to trail my thumb across his head if I were using my hands. I take Gerard’s moan as a sign that I’ve done something right, so I continue.

  
  


I spend several minutes in the same spot, lavishing the area and becoming accustomed to what Gerard feels like against my tongue. The strangled moan Gerard emits when he watches my tongue circle the slit, and I taste the mild sweetness of the clear fluid that has begun to collect there affects me even more than the act itself. It pushes me to move further down, sliding my tongue up and down Gerard’s length until I’m certain that I haven’t missed an inch.

  
  


It takes some time for me to work up the nerve, but eventually I work my way back up to the tip. Even though, if his moans are any indication, Gerard is enjoying himself, I know this isn’t enough. I bring the tip of my tongue back through the wetness that’s appeared again one last time before lowering my mouth over the head and wrapping my lips around it.

  
  


The change in Gerard’s demeanor is instant. His quiet, breathy moans become gravelly. The further I draw him into my mouth, the more they begin to sound like growls. When I reach a point where I can’t possibly take him into my mouth any further, Gerard’s hands find their way to my head. He brushes my hair away from my face tenderly and then removes his hand, shifting to prop himself up on his elbows to watch me.

  
  


The sight I see when I look up at him is almost breathtaking. His eyes are trained on me fiercely, but there’s more there. They’re soft, and he’s shaking his head back and forth as if he’s awed that this is even happening. I resist the urge to remove my mouth from him to ask him what he's thinking. I'm not sure I'm prepared to hear what his answer may be.

  
  


I suppress the nerves that have begun to rise again and drop my gaze from Gerard. I begin to pull my mouth back, stopping abruptly at Gerard’s hiss when my teeth make contact. I lightly caress his stomach and scratching my short nails through his pubic hair, the only apology I can offer right now and try again, being more careful to keep my lips on him as I move to release him from my mouth. I start from the beginning again, and when I move back in to take him in, his words echo in my mind, _“_ _I wanted to make you feel good, Mikes”._  
  
  


I keep the words tucked away at the front of my mind while I find a rhythm. After some time, I begin alternating from sucking on my brother’s length and taking time to cover the tip with my tongue. I think I’ve finally acclimated myself to doing this. Though it’s not something I ever really thought about doing with my brother, and I know I’m not exactly skilled at any of it, I’ve done plenty those last few weeks that I haven’t done or imagined doing with him, especially on this tour, in this bus, in my tiny bunk. An odd sense of pride bubbles in my stomach when I think about it.

  
  


Gerard begins to twist his hips firmly underneath me, muttering unintelligible words before he finally manages to say my name.

  
  


“Mikey-..Mikes, I..,” he croaks, breathless. “I’m gonna…”

  
  


I pull my mouth from Gerard and watch him take hold of his erection. He gives himself a few strokes and within seconds of me tearing my mouth away, his orgasm takes over. His body shudders and empties over his hand and stomach.

  
  


I’m not sure there’s anything I’ve enjoyed more these nights on bus than watching my brother come. There’s something about the way his body moves. But I especially find it arousing to see the way his erection seems to pulse in order to get every last drop of come out. It’s almost scary how much I enjoy watching it happen.

  
  


Gerard kisses me deeply before getting out of bed to clean himself up. Now I'm almost disappointed that I pulled off because I only now realise I never got to taste him. As always though, I follow him and watch him do that, too- clean himself up. Afterward, we climb back into my bunk, ignoring the burning stares of the others. There’s also no need to dress other than in a pair of boxers. Part of me has to wonder when either Ray or Frank or both will finally say something.

  
  


I curl up in my brother’s arms, my chest pressing against his, and close my eyes. He kisses my closed lips gently before whispering, "Sweet dreams, baby boy," against them. It won’t be long before sleep claims me, but I doubt either one of us will sleep through the night.

 

  
*

 

The final two days of our tour have come up fast. Both of us had to struggle with more nightmares, even though we were there for each other.

  
  


We tried to calm each other slowly, taking our time as we worked over each other’s bodies. Gerard’s tongue and mouth covered every inch of me that he could reach. His teeth found my nipples and he spent an ample amount of time there, nipping, sucking, tracing the taut nubs with the tip of his tongue. The inferno it caused inside of me consumed my entire being.

  
  


He did the same between my legs, moving in an idle and lingering fashion, using both his mouth and fingers on and in me. He seemed far more confident than he was the first night he did this to me, even moving down further and dipping his tongue into my muscle. The surprising pleasure it brought to me forced me to clamp my hand over my mouth to keep from crying out loudly.

  
  


I'd lost all train of thought and, for the moment, all worries seemed to vanish while Gerard worked me into blissful oblivion. Even after my orgasm had subsided, he continued to cover my body with soft kisses. Each kiss felt as though he was whispering into my skin, leaving behind a trail of warm words that made my need for him so great that I practically tore his pants trying to remove them.

  
  


I wasn’t the only one enjoying Gerard’s deliberate, almost artful adulation of my body. He was so hard when I took him into my mouth that night, and I made sure to move just as slowly as he had so he wouldn’t come too soon.

  
  


I remembered the way Gerard wrapped his hand around himself that first night I did this, and I tried the same thing as I took him further into my mouth. And after I’d spent just as much time on him as he did on me, pouring over his length with my mouth, licking every inch, and using my hand to stroke him at the same time, it was  _my_   fingers that were covered with his come after he finished -- the way it should be.

 

But as we settled in for the night, it wasn’t long before the same nightmares began to plague me. The shows every night were the one thing that left me hopeful and distracted during the day, at least most of the time. Hearing the fans roar our name and putting all my heart into playing my bass, supporting my brother's singing.

 

Even after all the worries the night before the last show, nothing could have prepared me for the moment when we finally left the stage for the very last time.

 

After the show, the bus speeds off toward home just after midnight. The sound of Ray’s shrill voice extolling the show made me all but sad when it should made me happy. I rise from my seat on the couch and announce loudly that I’m going to bed, making no effort to hide the fact that I’m taking Gerard with me. There is no laughter or excitement from Frank following us tonight.

 

The curtain to my bunk hasn’t even finished closing before my lips crash into Gerard’s. He makes a surprised noise from the back of his throat but kisses me back in earnest. I need something to take my mind off of everything, if only for a little while. It just can't be over. I can't go home on my own again. I need something that makes me feel good. I need my brother. Always.

 

Our pace is the opposite of what it was last night. I can’t seem to peel off my stage clothes fast enough. We fall onto the mattress and I begin to work on Gerard’s pants as he pulls off his jacket and shirt. Ray would probably..no, surely lecture us if he saw the way we were practically ripping the clothes from our bodies and hurling them across the small room on the floor between the bunks.

  
  


Gerard’s still soft when I pull him from his pants. As I burry my face into his skin and his pubic hair, he kinda smells unwashed and dirty but also like _home_ and I that's all I ever needed. I take him into my mouth eagerly, able to take him much deeper this way. And as I suck on him, I can feel him getting harder in my mouth. I’ve never sucked him into arousal before, and I’m finding it’s causing that familiar ache between my legs despite Gerard never having touched me yet tonight.

  
  


The sounds of Gerard’s moans cause me to pull away from his erection. I’m not ready for him to come yet. It's too soon. Under a confused gaze from Gerard, I climb on top of him and straddle his hips. My butt covers his erection when I settle down on top of him, and I sigh in relief at how delicious the contact feels.

  
  


Being able to feel Gerard pressed against me is welcoming, and a fire grows inside me as I begin to grind my hips forward. His length brushes against my own, coating us with both our precome as I quicken the pace. I feel his strong hand cup and squeeze my butt as soft groans pour from his lips. His face takes on a wide-eyed, slack jawed expression. He looks so beautiful in this exact moment. His hair is greasy and disheveled, long strands of dark hair between my fingers, his green-brown eyes  are filled with lust. Eyebrows knit together tightly. His tiny nose looks like the one from a fairy in the dark light, his normally pale cheeks are filled with a light blush and his bottom lip is tucked between his tiny crooked teeth that I always found so adorable. Sometimes I can't even believe he's a boy. He looks so much like a girl right now. Hell, he even sounds like a girl. His moans aren't deep, but very high-pitched "ah-ah-ah" sounds. But even for as much as I'm enjoying this, none of it feels like enough. I realize that it never will until Gerard is finally moving inside me.

  
  


I lean forward, grabbing hold of Gerard’s hand that covers my butt. I plant a kiss on his lips and roll off of him, settling my back against the cool mattress and pulling on Gerard’s arm. He understands what I’m asking and he rolls of top of me. As he begins to descend my body, moving toward my cock, I stop him. Feeling Gerard’s mouth embrace me isn’t something I could ever truly resist, not after having the pleasure of knowing just how good it could be. But tonight I need more than that, and the aching I feel won't stop until I get it.

  
  


With my fingers just under Gerard’s chin, I lure him back up toward my mouth and welcome his tongue inside. As our kisses grow hungrier, I spread my legs and position my hips close to Gerard’s. My hope is that he’ll understand what I want when I reach down and attempt to guide his erection toward my hole. But Gerard places his hand over mine, stopping me.

  
  


“Mikey?” he says, his eyes searching my face for an answer.

  
  


“Please,” I murmur wiggling my hips even closer. I can feel his erection pressing against my hole now. Dropping my hand, I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him down into another kiss, keeping him close when we’re done. “I want to, Gee.”

  
  


Gerard still doesn’t move. Suddenly I wonder if he even wants to do this. I take a deep breath and rush the question out on the exhale.

  
  


“Do you want to?” I ask.

  
  


I see Gerard’s face soften. The confused expression disappears and he closes his eyes. He inhales deeply through his nose and nods.

  
  


“Then please,” I whisper again, my lips brushing against his.

  
  


I watch Gerard’s every move with nervous anticipation. He pulls away and sits back on his haunches, wrapping his hand around his length. My eyes stay glued to the sight as Gerard strokes himself. He seems hesitant. So when his eyes find mine, I nod sharply. Telling him again that this is what I want.  
  
  


Then he pushes two fingers past my lips and I eagerly suck them into my mouth, coating them. As soons as they're slick enough, he presses a single finger in my hole. It doesn't hurt so I tell him I'm ready for another. It stings, but it's not bad and soon I find myself thrusting against his fingers, still wanting more.

  
  


When I tell him I'm ready, he carefully pulls out his fingers and places the tip of his cock near my entrance. With a strong and shuddering breath, Gerard slowly begins to move forward. I gasp loudly when I feel his head advance and he begins to stretch me and wince as an uncomfortable pinching engulfs my hole, stopping Gerard in his tracks.

  
  


My hands find his hips quickly and I grip them, running the pads of my thumbs and forefingers over his skin tenderly.

  
  


“I’m okay, Gee.” I insist, pulling on his hips. “Keep going, please..“

  
  


I keep my hands on Gerard’s hips while he begins to advance again, and whenever I feel I need a minute I press against them so he knows to stop. With my cues, we work together, the sounds of our hard and ragged breathing filling the tiny room of the bunk.

  
  


After some time, Gerard is halfway inside of me. I gasp again when I feel him begin to pull himself out. Not in pain, but in shock. Does he want to stop?

  
  


But he doesn’t, because soon I feel him pushing back in. The pressure is still there, but it’s a little easier to focus on what it feels like to have Gerard inside me. The way he stretches me is unlike anything I’ve ever felt. Despite the pain, I find that I like it. I feel full in a way that’s different than having too much junk food, and each time Gerard pulls back and pushes back into me, the discomfort lessens.

  
  


Still, this isn’t quite what I was expecting. I don’t feel my release building like I hoped I would, but it’s not bad. The throbbing in my cock hasn’t let up at all, and I can feel precome dripping out my butt, making it a little easier for Gerard to move in and out.

  
  


Gerard’s hand wrapping around my length and his thumb on my throbbing head causes an unexpected shock to surge through my body. He begins to rub at the head and finally, I start to feel my release mounting. I want to thank him for somehow knowing that I needed more. His thrusts inside me now are slow, shallow, and not entirely painful anymore. This, plus his thumb’s movements over my head have taken me to the next level at last. I feel like I’m standing just at the edge, waiting for the final stroke that will push me just beyond it.

  
  


To my surprise, it’s Gerard suddenly speeding up the timing of his thrusts that finally pushes me over that edge and I spill all over his knuckles and my belly. It feels different to climax with him inside of me. Each time a ripple wracks my body, I can feel my walls clench his erection and then release it.

  
  


This causes Gerard to come undone not long after me. Head thrown back, lips slightly parted and eyes squeezed together. God, he looks so beautiful like this. With a trembling groan, he pulls himself out and comes low on my stomach, shaking as each throb causes more to spill onto my pale skin. The warmth seeps into me and somehow brings a sense of calm with it. Gerard moves back and sits between my legs, a silence falling between us that feels foreign after what we’ve done together.

  
  


“I’ll go get something to clean you up,” Gerard mutters, shifting his body.

  
  


“No,” I say, reaching for him. “Just stay. Please, Gee, don't leave me alone.”

  
  


I pull Gerard back to me and we huddle close together, not caring about the mess of our coupling. The only thing I want right now is to feel my brother’s warmth and steadiness with hopes that it’ll ward off both the nightmares and the thoughts of what could happen when we get home tomorrow.

  
  


 


	3. Chapter 3

The sound of the shower's stream crashing down against the sand-toned tiles is hypnotic. I step in, interrupting the almost rhythmic cadence and allow the steam that's rising to engulf me. The scalding water pelts my back and rolls across my skin. I welcome the sensation in hopes that it'll replace the traces of heat that Gerard's fingers and lips left behind on my body. There are no marks on my skin, but I can still feel his fingers on me like they've been imprinted there for eternity. It's as though the tips of his fingers are still digging into my hips, pulling my body back to meet his heedless thrusts. Every spot along my back where he dropped open mouthed kisses and nipped at my skin with his teeth are on fire and have been long before the water ever touched me.

 

When I step out of the shower, I put my underwear and pjama pants back on but nothing more, and crawl under my cold blanket. I lay down and try for hours and hours to fall asleep, but without success- of course. It's been seven days since the last show. Seven days since the tour bus pulled away and left me and Gerard in our home town once again. Seven days without sleep. Seven days of staring at my bedroom door, waiting to hear my brother's footsteps on the floor at 2am sharp, coming towards my room.

 

Now though, I was halfway to his bedroom door instead in the dead of night before I realized that one week of trying to resist going to him was all that I could stand. The nights on the bus replay in my mind on a loop now, becoming clearer each time. Now there's no more show every night, nothing that keeps my mind off of things and I know the same goes for him.

 

A few times this week, after I’ve managed to pull my stare away from the bedroom door and slip into bed even further, I tried to recreate the way Gerard's hands felt on my body. With hopes that I’d be able to find the contented rest I managed on the bus, I’d let my hands roam. Caressing, rubbing, and tweaking all of the places that Gerard's fingers managed to find to coax his name from my lips and a trembling completion throughout my body. It never feels the same as it did with my brother. In the dark bedroom, I’d screw my eyes shut and whisper his name, trying to beckon the feelings his touch incited. I’d bring myself to the brink and let myself fall, no longer whispering but panting his name into a pillow with each shiver of bliss that ran across my skin.

 

But the serenity never came. I wasn't even going to bother trying tonight. I’d just sit in my bed anyway, knowing that I’d be far better off away from staring at my door, and wait for a muffled sound of him that I shouldn't be craving. That's why I'm on my way to his room, now. We were so afraid after coming home, afraid that someone -someone other than Frank and Ray- would find out and tell the press wich would be the end of the band for sure. So we agreed that what happened on the bus couldn’t continue at home.

 

We agreed and kept that promise until now. But I know for a fact that I'm not the only one staring at the dark bedroom door every night. I know he has nightmares, too. I know he's waiting for the sound of _my_ muffled footseps outside his door. I know he's waiting for _me_ to come back to him. And to be honest, I'm quite impressed that we've made it this long without breaking the deal.

 

It's a cold night tonight and I'm only in my pjyama pants as always and my skin feels still wet from the shower I took earlier. I don't really like sleeping with something covering my arms..except with Gerard's arms covering me. His door looks so unreal, now that I'm standing in front of it after all these days instead of thinking about it. Yeah..I've been thinking about this all week. Every awaking moment since we came back home.

 

Sure, we share an apartment, we surely see each other during the day, but we never talk about it. But of course we know what the other is thinking. I know it’s the right decision to be here right now, but the longer I stand here with the cold air whipping around my body, the less I want to make the right decision. And so, with chattering teeth and goosebumps covering my exposed skin, I tap on the door as lightly as I can and hope that he hears it.

 

When there's no answer, for a second, I want to run, but my legs ignore my thoughts and stay firmly planted on the same spot and open the door anyway. Seeing him is such a relief, it almost makes me feel like I want to cry. My eyes give Gerard a once over. For some reason he's still dressed in his day clothes; tight black worn-out jeans, white t-shirt and even his street shoes are planted on his covers. He's lying on his back, legs bent over. I also notice the cigarette between his fingers. His hair is as tousled and greasy as ever. And his hands. One holding the cancer stick and the other one lays lazyily on his chest.

 

Those hands that spent most of those nights on the bus touching me in places I never knew I wanted touched are now covered in paint from the tips of his fingers to the middle of his forearm. He raises his head to look at me but doesn't say anything. He takes a drag from his cigarette instead. Without saying a word I walk over to him, stopping at the edge of his bed, right in front of his knees. Without really thinking about it, I lean forward and kiss them while my hands gently explore his covered legs. I let them wander to his boots and pull each of them off, along with his socks.

 

When I move to sit down between his knees, he scoots up a bit, giving me more space. Now that I'm sitting here, between his legs, I realise just how much I love his tights and his waist. He's never been the most skinniest person on earth, sure, but his chub is what makes him perfect in my eyes. I run my hands up and down his tights, up to his knees and back to his hip where I squeeze the skin though the fabric. He takes another drag from his cigarette and blows the smokre out in a way that almost looks like art.

 

There's suddenly an overwhelming need running through my vains that makes me want to burry my nose in the fabric of his jeans. Of course I let that need win over. I start at his knees and then wander to his inner thights. When my lips crash down on the fabric as well, his eyes flutter shut and he pushes his head into the pillow a bit, his lips parting slightly. Seeing him like this only motivates me, so I continue my journey and finally burry my nose and mouth in his jeans-covered crotch. The sound that he makes in return is what I wanted to hear all week.

 

For a moment I just breath him in. He smells dirty, like unwashed clothes and old cigarette smoke and sweat but I also smell his skin through the jeans. A smell that is _just Gerard_. And I can feel the heat radiating through them wich lets my mouth water. I let my hands wander around till they reach his butt. When I squeeze his cheeks he makes another sound, but this time it's one of those girly moans that I so love.

 

When I pull at his belt he gets the message and lifts his hips so I can pull his jeans down his waist. He's wearing bright red underwear and I can see a wet spot from where he's leaking already. I repeat what I did earlier- I bury my whole face in his crotch and just breath him in. Then I let my lips wander and suck his head lightly though the fabric where he's leaking. The sound he makes is priceless.

 

I look up at him and see him staring back at me with big eyes. There are so many questions, I know. But he doesn’t ask a single one. He only searches my eyes for the answers and all I can do is hope that he’s able to find them there. And just as the silence is filling me with a hollowness even greater than before, Gerard puts the stump of his now finished cigarette in the ashtray on his bedside table, reaches out and grabs my arm, pulling me to him. The rest happens in a blur.

 

His body pushing me back against the mattress, his mouth covering mine again, and paint covered hands cupping my face, his thumbs brushing my cheeks as we devour each other. But those hands seem to have a need to touch me just as much as I crave them to, and it’s not long before my cheeks are feeling cold in their absence only to feel their warmth on my chest.

 

This. This is what I’ve needed. His touch that sets my skin on fire and his mouth that breathes life back into me, reminding me that I’m still alive. When I squirm underneath him, he responds by grabbing my waist, squeezing the skin there and captures my lips again. His next movements are slow, calculated, and silent. Pulling his hands from my waist, he sits back on his heels and goes straight for my naked foots. I almost never wear socks, especially not at home. There's just no need for it, and I'm always cold anyways, no matter what I wear. My toes are curled from the cold and he must have noticed..

 

“I think it might be snowing soon..” I say. “I know,” Gerard replies, placing one hand over my bare foot. “You shouldn't walk around like this, Mikes. I don't want you to catch a cold.“ he utters, clearing his throat when his voice hitches. “I can get you a pair of my socks if you want..“

 

“Sure. Thanks,” I say with a nod, licking what remains of him from my lips. But he doesn’t make a move to go get me a pair of socks. He only watches me hook my fingers into my waistband and slide the pants down my skinny thighs. Eventually, he reaches out and takes the pants, And then he’s right back hovering over me, still unwilling to leave. His brief moment of weakness seems to have passed. He won’t touch me again if I don’t ask him to. I know this. There’s no doubt that he’s thinking about our talk after the tour.

 

And unless I do something, something that’ll confirm what both of us are thinking -- that we’ll never be able to go hungry again now that we’ve had a taste of each other -- we’ll stay this way all night. I move first and make sure Gerard’s looking at me when I start to shimmy out of my boxers. His eyes follow the trail my hands make down my thighs and finally meet mine while I take his hand. Leaning up a bit, I find his ear. “Touch me again, Gee,” I whisper, letting go of his hand. “I want you to.”

 

The next move is his to decide, and he takes his time. His hand stays hovering between us while the cold is still creating goosebumps on my skin. Then he makes his move. He’s no longer lingering, and he’s anything but hesitant. His hand disappears between my legs and his fingers are wrapping around my length in a way that’s no longer unknown. My body is familiar to him now and I allow myself to show him just how much I’ve needed his touch. In that dark bunk on the bus, the thought of giving myself over to the thrill of our actions was terrifying at first. Every move I made was met with my own judgement. How did I sound? Was I being too loud? What if guiding his hand back to my leaking cock or his mouth to my nipple was too much? But I soon learned it was only myself doing the judging.

 

And when I tilt my hips to allow Gerard’s fingers to tease my hole, his sigh as his fingers push into me is all I need to hear to leave those fears behind for the night. It’s _me_ that reaches for the hem of Gerard’s shirt and forces it over his head and to the floor. It’s _me_ who lies back against the messy bed to allow Gerard’s fingers to go deeper, so I can feel the pads of each digit push against my spot when he curls them, and I have to bite my lip to keep myself from crying out at the delicious, throbbing pressure that builds with his movements.

 

But I can feel something else building, too. A yearning that exceeds anything I’ve ever felt before. Greater than the need I felt for him on the bus, greater than the longing I felt for him alone in my room. And I can feel that same yearning in the way Gerard touches me now. He teases me with his fingers as though he’s been thinking about it for days. And as he flicks his thumb against my head, my only thoughts are of him in this room, locked away from the world while his hand runs up and down his own length, his eyes screwed shut as he tries desperately to find a release that’ll bring him rest -- just like I’ve been doing for the last week.

 

It’s now that I truly realize that we’ll never be able to go back. We’ve taken steps that can never be untaken and brought upon a need for each other that’s so great, the thought of not having him is terrifying. Can we still call each other brothers? Are we lovers now? Is he actually as much in love with me as I am with him? Would he ever tell me..? But I refuse to think about that right now. Not when Gerard’s fingers have me so close to the release I’ve been searching for.

 

He keeps my legs trapped under his arms to stop me from squirming too far from his reach and curls his fingers again, adding to the pressure that’s building between my legs. The more he does it, the less I’m able to keep the sounds trapped behind my lips, and our eyes meet when I let out a noticeably loud moan. Though his expression doesn’t change, there’s a determination in Gerard’s eyes that bores into me, daring me to look away -- but I don’t. I won’t. My eyes are still locked on his when I feel the rush of throbbing culminate and burst at my head, traveling in spastic waves down my legs and to my toes. My body collapses against the mattress as the last of my release subsides and Gerard slips his hand out from between my legs, trailing it up my thigh and down my leg.

 

He stays silent, but his hands continue to drift higher until they’re both resting on my hips and he eases my lower half up just enough to coax my body to turn onto my stomach. Quickly, he follows by straddling my legs, his warm hands running through my hair from behind. One kiss against the crook of my neck turns into two, and then a third placed a little lower than the first two. He continues this pattern and leaves a hot trail all the way down my back until he’s off my legs completely and has moved far enough down to reach my butt.

 

His hands squeeze once and then slide to the front, gently lifting my lower half up so that I’m on my knees and completely exposed to him. I gasp when his mouth is suddenly on me, warm and covering my hole while his tongue laps at it and coating it with his spit. I can’t be sure, but I think I hear a satisfied moan rumble from the back of his throat as he drinks me in, and I return it with fervor, enjoying how every part of me is enveloped by his mouth. Then, just as suddenly as that mouth was there, it’s gone and I’m left with a cold ache that has nothing to do with the cold wind.

 

Gerard doesn’t give me time to think. Just as I’m starting to move out of the position he put me into, his hands are gripping my hips to keep me there, and I’m grateful. I refuse to let my thoughts gets the best of me. I’ll have plenty of time later to wonder how foolish I looked hoisted up on my knees in the middle of my brother’s bed. But for now, all I want is to focus on the strong hands that are now squeezing my hips and butt, and the hardness that I can feel pressing against me through his pants. I press back against it, eliciting a hiss from Gerard that gives me the courage to continue doing it until we’re working on tandem.

 

I push back against him as he simultaneously pulls and squeezes my hips. I don’t look back when I feel one of his hands let go of me, and I’m not surprised when I finally feel him -- all of him -- rubbing against my ass. The barrier of his cotton pants are gone now, and it’s just skin on skin while we continue in our back and forth motion, but this time Gerard’s moves are less erratic and more precise. His erection finds a place in the cleft of my butt. He slides it through the space in slow, teasing thrusts, and I find myself enjoying the sensation more than I ever expected to. The slow rhythm that Gerard has worked our bodies into falls apart when the feeling of his arousal sliding across my skin causes me to drive back against him harder and harder.

 

I can’t figure out what it is that makes it feel so good, but it does. And the huffing breaths coming from Gerard’s mouth only eggs me on. Gerard’s next transition is almost seamless. One minute he’s pulling me back, sliding his erection between my butt, the next he’s pushed him length down near my balls. And in one backwards thrust from me, he enters me and I cry out at the sudden feeling of him filling me. It doesn’t hurt much. Not like it did the first time we did this. But there’s a little discomfort as I get used to him being inside of me again. Gerard guides me, pulling my hips toward him and pushing them away, slowly at first so I can get used to his girth and then faster as my muscle begins to relax around him and I join him once more.

 

There’s something about the sounds all around me that only add to my growing arousal. My voice mingling with Gerard’s, neither of us forced to keep our whimpers low and stifled this time. It creates a delicious melody throughout the room, accompanied by the sounds of skin on skin each time Gerard pulls my hips back to meet him. I can feel my legs growing weaker as we move, but I don’t want this to end. The grip Gerard has on me and the angle that I’m lying in has him hitting all of the right spots. I can feel another climax building, it only took me a few minutes to get fully hard again and with each thrust Gerard makes, the deeper he seems to go. Without thinking, my hand dips underneath me to my front, and I tease my cock as Gerard drives into me.

 

With the added stimulation from my fingers, I reach the edge quickly and come all over my hand, my voice a mixture of heaving sighs and whimpering moans. I try to stay up on my knees, but after several particularly forceful thrusts my legs give out and I’m completely flat on my stomach on the bed. Gerard slows down immediately and lowers his body down against my back, holding himself up with his arms.

“You okay?” He whispers in my ear. “Yes,” I breathe, writhing underneath him and enjoying how tight my grip seems to be on him at this new angle. “Keep going.” My confirmation to continue is all he needs, but his quick pace has slowed and he stays hovered over me, nipping at my ear and whispering, „Always so beautiful, Mikes. You have no what you are doing to me,“ as he moves inside me. His hands find mine on the mattress and our fingers link together before he squeezes my hands hard.

 

And he’s very close now. Those rapid breaths are mixed with the some of the sweetest sounds I’ve ever heard, amplified due to the fact that his mouth is still hovering close to my ear. Those little "ah-ah-ah“ sounds he always seems to make when he gets close growing louder in the room. But we both know once it happens, reality will creep its way back in soon after, so his grip remains tight on my hands as he tries to preserve this frozen moment in time before it slips away again.

 

Though I’m expecting it, I still feel empty when I feel Gerard suddenly pulls himself out of me. There’s a warmth on my lower back where he spills onto me, and his groans are far more subdued than I expected them to be. Louder than they were on the bus, but still held back by tight lips that refuse to let the sounds escape. Something keeps me rooted to the mattress. It’s not Gerard, and it’s not the fact that my legs are still weak. There’s something else, something that isn’t physical.

 

I hear Gerard behind me. He’s shuffling with something, but I don’t look back. It’s not until he starts to walk out of his bedroom that I realize he’s put his pants back on. Pjyama pants this time, though. And yet.. I still don’t move. I rest my head on my arms and close my eyes, feeling drowsy for the first time in days. I hear Gerard climb the stairs, and I hear his heavy footsteps in the room above me. And then they move further to the back of the apartment before I can finally hear the footsteps growing louder and he comes back into the bedroom, a crooked smile on his face when I crack my eyes open to look at him.

 

“I brought you some warm clothes,” he says, holding up the pair of pants and undershirt in one hand, and a damp wash cloth in the other. “And something to clean you up with.” He takes it upon himself to wipe down my back, another thing we’re both familiar with from those nights on the bus. This time though he takes his time. I turn around to watch him trail a clean corner of the cloth over the curve of my butt and back up again before I hear a slight chuckle escape from his mouth.

 

“What?” I ask. He pulls me up to sit. “You’ve got paint on your cheeks,” he says, swiping his damp thumb over each one. “Sorry about that.” “Why were you painting this early anyway?” I ask, pulling the fresh shirt over my head. Pants can wait. Gerard shrugs. “Painter hours or something like that, I guess. I’ve been abiding by them more and more lately.”

 

“Because you can’t sleep,” I murmur, swiping a long strand out of his eyes and curling it behind his ear.

“Yeah. Sometimes I’ll catch a nap, though. While the paint’s drying.” I just nod, knowing just by looking at him that those naps are not enough. "And why were you in your day clothes still?" I ask, getting more and more tired. "I dunno..didn't matter to me what I was wearing, you know." With that, he finally crawls under the covers with me, his arms are around me again and immediatley I feel tired and safe. Safe from nightmares. I'm also not cold anymore.

 

Gerard tugs his knees behind mine and pulls me even closer. He finds my hand under the covers and takes it in his, curling our fingers together. Then he brings our entwined hands up near my face and kisses the spot right behind my ear. Everything is perfect in this exact moment and I can't help myself but telling him the truth.

 

Out in the quiet of his room, I whisper, „I've always loved you, you know that, don't you?“ I expect him to pull away and never talk to me ever again, but of course he doesn't. Instead, he let's go of my hand, reaches over me and pulls out a tiny box from his nightstand. My heart begins to pound in my chest.

 

Without saying a word, he opens the box, pulls out the ring that I knew must be in there as soon as I saw the box, and pulls it over my left ring finger. Then he lays back down and takes my hand again. But this time it means so much more. He kisses my neck and whispers a promise into my ear. Words that only belong to **me**.

 

As I finally fall asleep, in the arms of Gerard, I smile to myself.

 

Because that's who he is to me. He's _Gerard_.

 

And I love him with all there is.

 

I always have.

 

And I always will.

 

Until my last breath.

 

_-fin-_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, means a lot <3


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